He is crude talks in road trips
He's climbing the tallest tree and pulling me up
He's summer days playfighting and tossing each other in the pool
He's curled up in blankets in front of the fireplace at 10 PM with a bag of jumbo marshmallows between us
This boy is syrup, eyes dripping with enthusiasm and mischief and a sticky situation if they catch you staring
He's long car drives and stops to coffee shops at 1 AM and sharing headphones in class and friendship bracelets!!!
He is a perfectly enchanting book filled with mystery and lies and soft spots
He is an enigma, covering himself with a safety blanket of tall tales and love and hate and warwarwar
i am
falling
falling
falling
how did you become this to me?
YOU ARE READING
Sparrows Song
Poetryshort stories and poems for when the night is old and the day is dark
